


Comfort

by Nevcolleil



Category: Common Law
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-16
Updated: 2014-02-16
Packaged: 2018-01-12 17:50:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1194099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nevcolleil/pseuds/Nevcolleil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's about comfort. It's about being a good friend. And, okay, it's about the incredible orgasms.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Comfort

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompts 'shower', 'escalation', and 'awakening'.

After things have gone bad, Wes won't want to admit it, but there's really one thing that got him through the aftermath of his divorce with Alex. 

Wes wouldn't turn to drink to solve his problems - that could have impacted his performance on duty, and Wes's too professional for that.

He's also way too OCD for one-night stands, so - in Travis's mind - that left only one recourse.

Travis even went out of his way to make it happen. Waking up extra early to barge into Wes's place before Wes was sure to be out of bed; turning down hot dates to drop in on Wes when Wes was sure to be in the middle of a shower. (Dude's day, outside the precinct, runs like clockwork.)

That was before Alex took the house, so Travis could pick Wes's lock and help himself. Throw back Wes's covers and wake Wes up with Travis's mouth wrapped around his partner's morning wood. Strip down and step into the shower while Wes's eyes were squinched shut and his head was covered in shampoo foam.

"Wha- _Travis_! What did I tell you after the lamp incident!" Wes might have complained.

"Uh..." Travis paused in mouthing at one soapy shoulderblade to say. "I'm probably paraphrasing, but.. _Yes! Yes, Travis, don't st_ -"

"I said after!"

Travis pretended not to remember. "Hey. That wouldn't have happened if you didn't sleep with a gun like a big, gun-loving freak."

"I almost _shot_ you."

"You shot a _lamp_... I'm not worried."

"You-"

It didn't really matter, because as soon as Travis's hand found Wes's dick, Wes shut up real quick.

It wasn't about romance. No way did Travis hate himself enough to go and fall for Wes while Wes was still in love with his ex-wife. 

It was about comfort. It was about being a good friend; a partner - in every sense of the word. 

Okay, and it was about the incredible orgasms. Travis will never say this, but there's something to be said for sex with someone with the obsessive compulsion to be perfect and thorough.

Since Wes moved into the hotel, Travis can't just show up and sex him out of an emotional funk anymore. Couldn't - even if they were in a place right now that Wes would allow it. Besides, Wes is basically okay now. Lonely. More OCD than ever, but less likely to go off the deep end thanks to the stress of the job multiplied by the stress of his separation from Alex.

Travis no longer wakes up too early, plagued by nightmares of his partner slipping up, distracted, on the job, and becoming a pretty corpse. Travis can go out without fearing that his best friend is home, in his empty house, swallowing one of his immaculately polished bullets while Travis is getting some tail.

Wes never thanked him for it - and they pretend that it never happened now. But sometimes, even now - after one of Travis's brothers has done something stupid... or they've had a really rough day on the job, or - god forbid - Travis's done something stupid, like develop feelings outside of the physical for one of the lovely ladies to grace his trailer, he wakes up to find Wes stripping at the foot of his cramped camper bed.

It's about comfort. It's about friendship.

Until it's something more.


End file.
